


Speeder Shenanigans

by alyyks, Chrysaora



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Multi, POV Third Person, PWP, Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2017, Threesome - F/F/M, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyyks/pseuds/alyyks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrysaora/pseuds/Chrysaora
Summary: Padmé has been working hard and needs to blow off some steam. Sabé thinks she knows somebody who may be able to help.





	Speeder Shenanigans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Perspicacia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perspicacia/gifts).



> A collaborative effort—in more ways than one!
> 
> Posted to the exchange on November 25, 2017.

It was a gala, some exclusive, fancy shindig for Coruscant’s elite, and the presence of the newly-appointed Senator Padmé Amidala was expected.

And so, Padmé had come, representing both Naboo as well as a loose coalition of systems and planets that Padmé had been working tirelessly to bring together. Although this coalition had no official name yet, Sabé felt certain that it was only a matter of time. The balance of power in the Senate was off-kilter, and without some way of easing tensions, another trade embargo, or Force forbid an outright conflict between two or more factions, would soon be testing the strength of the Republic’s norms, institutions, and rule of law.

Sabé yearned to lob a thermal detonator (or three) at each and every last one of those self-important, self-serving politicians that was constantly thwarting Padmé’s commonsense objectives and high-minded ideals. For all Sabé that had been in public service her entire working life, she had never cultivated much in the way of patience for its petty politicking.

Strategically placed at Padmé’s right and two steps back to provide cover should the need arise, and dressed in a style meant both to reinforce Padmé’s place as a Senator and to fade into the background at the same time, Sabé let her attention wander away from the conversation taking place in front of her. Spaceport noise regulations had been a recurring theme of the evening, a seemingly innocuous topic perfect for breaking the ice and making small talk. Padmé engaged with it valiantly, but it bored Sabé practically to tears.

Besides, Naboo’s Senator was already collecting adversaries who would rejoice to see her dead, and there were over a thousand attendees, any one of whom might be an assassin. Moreover, the gala hall was bedecked in bouquets of flowers and distracting crystalline chandeliers throwing out scintillating shards of light in every direction. The flowers were easy to hide behind, and the chandeliers made the distinct gleam of a weapon difficult to discern.

Padmé was holding her head too stiffly and hadn’t taken a single sip of her Alderaanian champagne in an hour—a tell, if there was one, that she was wound too tight and in desperate need of some sort of release. An hour at the blaster rifle shooting range would do, perhaps. Or sex. Ah, yes, a no-strings-attached fuck with someone they could both trust would be just the thing.

Unfortunately, people who could be trusted for good, clean fun were hard to come by, especially at an event like this gala.

Padmé had finally disengaged from the conversation—which had turned to air traffic over the Republica buildings, a banal subject for sure—and taken a sip from her glass, fingers moving in a pattern known only to her and the women who had once been her Royal Handmaidens. _Another hour and a half_ , the gesture said. Sabé did some quick mental calculations. There were at least four other people Padmé had planned to talk to, three more beyond those four if there was sufficient time. An hour and a half would barely be enough.

“Would milady care for another glass? Or perhaps two?” Sabé asked, subtly conveying her skepticism of the feasibility of Padmé’s timeframe.

“I think I’ll just finish this one, thank you.” No, Padmé indeed wanted to stick to an hour and a half.

Sabé cast another glance around the hall and took note of an unexpected late arrival. Well, well, _well_ …

“Perhaps hors d’oeuvres would be to your liking—in private,” Sabé suggested with a coy look. It was as explicit an offer of group sex as she would dare in public.

Padmé flicked her eyes at her, but it was the speed of that single raised finger which was most emphatic. _WHAT?!_ the gesture demanded.

The crowd had shifted just enough to let a familiar silhouette be seen. The plain brown of those robes was unmistakable, and even with the addition of a neatly trimmed beard, the face of Obi-Wan Kenobi was as unforgettable to Sabé as it was to Padmé.

Padmé’s eyebrows moved down a fraction of a millimeter before turning to face in Kenobi’s direction. Sabé stepped in closer, close enough to whisper in Padmé’s ear like a thousand Senators’ aides refreshing their employers’ memories about persons of interest.

“You need to blow off some steam, and he’d be perfectly polite about it. What would it cost to ask?”

Padawan and then Knight Kenobi had always been perfectly polite, professional, competent—and handsome. Sabé, a few years after their first meeting, would have loved to feel his hands on her, to see if they had matching calluses from their hand-to-hand and weapons training. She hadn’t had anything to drink, but now, thinking about him touching Padmé and being able to watch…she was glad those entertaining musings weren’t being clouded by alcohol.

Sabé surveyed the hall yet again. There was no telltale movement from anyone else toward the two of them that would require the Senator Amidala’s undivided attention. She nudged Padmé.

Padmé favored her with an amused half-smile. “You are a terrible influence.”

Together, they headed through the crowd toward Kenobi.

“Knight Kenobi,” Padmé greeted him.

Kenobi bowed low. “Senator Amidala. I’m pleased to see you.” He also gave Sabé a gracious nod, which she appreciated tremendously.

After that, Sabé didn’t pay much attention to the details of their chat, going into a quiet display of intimidation with the bodyguard of a probable-Senator and making it abundantly clear that probable-Senator should not interrupt Padmé and Kenobi. It worked. Then there were the usual tensions to avoid as the event began to wind down and some drunken attendees became rowdy—at least one duel was loudly demanded, spreading agitation. One of the people Padmé wanted to talk to left before the talk could happen. Kenobi was joined by Senator Organa and made his excuses a few minutes later. And hour and half came and went, and Sabé didn’t know if Kenobi would join them afterwards. She felt quite disappointed by that.

Upon their departure, Kenobi was waiting for them outside in a chauffeured speeder.

“Where to?” the droid driver asked as Padmé and then Sabé climbed into the amble backseat alongside Kenobi.

“A tour of the Senate District, if you please. We’d like to take in all the sights,” Sabé said smoothly. That would take an hour at this time of night, easily.

“We’d appreciate some privacy, though, if you don’t mind. There’s no need for a running commentary,” Kenobi interjected. A wise clarification on his part in case the droid wanted to play tour guide.

The droid bleeped an acknowledgment and set off. They waited until the roof closed over them and they were in the air before they relaxed.

“I have some excellent ideas about how we ought to proceed,” Sabé said as she pushed the hood of her robe back, smiling at Padmé.

Padmé took her hand and kissed her fingers. “Yes, dear, of course you do.”

“Lie back against me, milady,” Sabé instructed.

Padmé did as she was told without further comment, resting her back against Sabé’s chest and her head against Sabe’s shoulder. She sighed softly the long-held tension from too much hard work beginning—at last!—to leave her body, as Sabé loosened her Senatorial robes, then parted and lifted them…just enough to entice Kenobi.

Kenobi knew without being told what Sabé was suggesting. “I hope I can fulfill my ladies’ expectations,” he said with a cocked eyebrow and a warm, mischievous smile of his own—

—a smile which quickly disappeared from sight between Padmé’s legs.

Padmé giggled reflexively; Kenobi’s facial hair must have tickled the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. Soon afterwards, though, she was moaning and whimpering, a delicious musical counterpoint to the sinfully obscene, wet sucking noises Kenobi was making. Sabé wished she could see what he was doing to Padmé, but her view was obstructed. Her own sex was swelling, throbbing sympathetically, aching with unfulfilled desire. This wasn’t about Sabé’s needs, however, so she consoled herself instead by claiming Padmé’s mouth for a deep, hot-breathed kiss.

Padmé didn’t last; she needed this too badly. Her hips juddered, a high-pitched cry tearing her lips from Sabé’s as she came hard. Sabé could tell that the orgasm was an intense one by the way Padmé’s fingers flexed helplessly and dug themselves into the seat cushions, and Kenobi continued pleasuring her straight through it. Sabe kept her arms wrapped tightly around Padmé as she trembled, inhaling the sweet, subtle fragrance of Padmé’s finely-coiffed hair.

Eventually, the trembling eased. “Was that what you needed, milady?” Sabé asked.

“Mmm.” Padmé had been rendered near-inarticulate. She turned around within the circle of Sabe’s arms to face her. Her expression was slack, coy, positively indolent with pleasure. “Mmm,” she repeated, “that was lovely. However, I think there’s something else I require from you now.”

Padmé’s clever, dexterous fingers wormed their way unerringly into Sabé’s clothing and found her hot, moist center. The pad of one thumb circled the engorged button of her clitoris while another two fingers plunged deep into her, stretching and thrusting and _pushing_ upwards exactly how Sabé liked it.

“Oh!” Sabé gasped.

“Oh!” Padmé echoed as her body was forced into Sabé’s.

In the meantime, Kenobi had repositioned himself and had proceeded to take Padmé from behind. His brow was furrowed with concentration, his nostrils flaring, and his thrusts were slow and steady, but strong. Each time he plunged into Padmé he rocked all three of their bodies together. It was surprising, Sabé thought dazedly, that the speeder wasn’t rocking too.

Kenobi had incredible stamina, control befitting a Jedi Knight, and Padmé’s climb to a second orgasm would be gradual. For Sabé, though, it was a struggle not to be thrown immediately over the cliff edge; no, she wanted to take her time to enjoy this…and to enjoy the sight of Padmé’s enjoyment.

Their mutual pleasure built and built and built, and in the end, it went on for much longer than Sabé had any right to expect. Even as Padmé began to convulse once more, Kenobi’s unhurried rhythm never wavered. And when Padmé’s fingers bit down on Sabé, a touch too roughly, Sabé felt the knotted tension in her belly unravel and explode, a liquid torrent of heat rushing up her spine and down all four of her limbs, setting her aflame.

“Milady—!” she cried, writhing.

Padmé caressed Sabe’s face affectionately and nestled against her as the orgasm receded. They were both quivering and loose from the aftershocks. Behind them, Kenobi gave one last mighty thrust, moaned, and came himself. Sabé watched as Padmé sighed contentedly at the sensation of Kenobi’s semen flooded her insides.

Afterwards, naturally, Padmé wanted to talk politics, and Kenobi proved himself as skilled and thoughtful in the political arena as he was in the, ahem, private one…although to Sabé’s mind he ought to have a bit more respect for the work of politicians in general. However imperfect, they didn’t have an easy job—Padmé in particular—and she wasn’t convinced Kenobi fully appreciated that. His evident lack of interest in joining them for further fun at Padmé’s apartment, pleading concern for his young Padawan learner, seemed indicative. Still, he’d been most obliging in the speeder, so that was something. It might well be worth calling upon him again in the future should the need arise.

She and Padmé would have to make do, just the two of them, in the meantime. That would not be the worst of fates.

All in all, the night thus far had been, by Sabé’s estimation, an unmitigated success.

 

END


End file.
